


I did not hate them until I did

by Belri1996



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Black Family Feels (Harry Potter), Black Family-centric (Harry Potter), Friendship, Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter), POV Sirius Black, Young Sirius Black
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:48:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29536356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Belri1996/pseuds/Belri1996
Summary: I hated them but did I ? They were my family after all... A story of how Sirius Black might have felt regarding his family (Sirius Black POV) Set during Marauders Time, before Halloween 1981 and after Graduation.
Kudos: 1





	I did not hate them until I did

**Author's Note:**

> This is Sirius Black POV set before Halloween 1981 and after a graduation.

I told everyone I hated them. My family, my house, my blood. And that was not a complete lie. I did hate everything they stood for, everything they did, every time they hurt me, hit me, torture me. But the truth was that the face of abuse and purity was not everything they were, at least not to me. 

I remember the small moments of peace after dinner when my father would bring two glasses of red wine for himself and my mother, and two of pumpkin juice for me and Regulus. We didn’t say anything, we didn’t talk about our day, about the world, about our already present differences We just sat there, drinking, silently. And everyday, I awaited for those moments : the quiet, the peace and the appearance of a strong and happy family.  
But the best part ? The best part were when our parents smiled quietly whenever Regulus or I showed an act of magic, when we hid in the library watching our father reading to our mother, or whenever our father pretended to like drinking whisky around his friends and colleagues. 

It wasn’t all bad. It wasn’t all good either but what family is good all the time ? At least, that was I told myself. Perhaps, it was because that was the only thing I kew or because I would have picked my family everyday over the Lestrange, my cousin Bellatrix and the Malfoy. 

The truth is I don’t remember when it started. I don’t remember when I pulled apart from my family, from my father, my mother and my brother. Was it when I stole a muggle poster from a store when I was 8 and put it in my room ? Was it when I started talking to that cute muggle neighbour in hopes that she will bring her puppy ? Or was it when I first walked through the doors of Hogwarts and got sorted into Gryffondor ? The only think I know is that the more I pulled apart from my family, the more I grew close to my friends : James , Remus and Peter. And it wasn’t long before the loyalty I was supposed to hold for my name and my family did not mean anything next to the love and loyalty I had for my friends. 

Perhaps I should have fought harder ? Harder to make them understand that muggles, muggleborns, blood traitors and werewolves weren’t the enemy, to make them understand that I wasn’t the enemy.  
I know I should have tried harder to talk to my brother when he was sorted in Slytherin. I should have send him more letters during my first year when he was stuck at home with our parents. I should have been his big brother. But I didn’t and I wasn’t. I could to try to justify myself by my age, my stupidity and how seemingly important to me it was to show to everyone that bearing my Family Name was the only thing I had in common with them, that I wasn’t a coward like them. But, maybe I was. I was the coward who wasn’t brave enough, strong enough, loyal enough.

But I didn’t hate them. I think I even loved them at some point. I know I loved my brother once. And I didn’t hate them. Not when my father first used the cruciatus on me, not even when Regulus received the same curse once for breaking the 14th century plates. And least of all not my mother. At least, not at first. Not even when she spoke the words that would keep me out my house when I was sixteen and not even when she burned my name on the family tapestry. Despite all of that, I didn’t hate them yet. It was the strangest feeling : loving someone despite not liking them. 

I do remember the first time I meant it : that I hated them. It was few months after graduation, I had just moved out from James’s apartment after a not so subtle indication that he and Lily wanted more time alone. Peter was working at this tiny shop and Remus was struggling to find a job despite getting some of the best NEWT grades in our year. But despite all of the hardships and the growing number of attacks, we all felt like celebrating. After all, out of Hogwarts, living our life and most importantly, staying together. We were drinking a pint at the new local pub when I saw it. It was just part of it and just for a second but that wasn’t enough. I don’t know who he was talking to or what he was saying but the mark on his left arm was unmistakable : Regulus was a death eater. 

It somehow came as a shock to me. You would think that I knew, with my family being who they were and their allegiances being what they were but I always had the tiniest hope that Regulus would not be part of it. Not my little brother, not the one who would crawl into my bed after a nightmare or during a storm, not the one who could not kill a spider, decided to keep it and named it « Paws » until out mother found it and killed it. But the man standing in the corner with his long sleeves and allusive look was undoubtedly Regulus Black. Except he was not my little brother anymore. No. He was now the mask I might fight against during a battle or the unknown wand behind the torture and massacre of a muggle family. 

" _I hate them_ " 

They laughed. They laughed because I had said it so many times that it felt like last summer’s best selling muggle record. They laughed because they didn’t know better. Until they didn’t. Until they saw him as well, until they understood that this time, I meant it.

I remember that first time I meant it. I remember the day I lost my little bother. And I remember the day my friends became my family, my brothers.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading !


End file.
